Under the Sea
by queenlara
Summary: Under the sea AU. When Artemis Crock meets a mermaid while surfing, a girl running from her past meets a boy running from his future.
1. Her Morning Elegance

A/N: Hi! This is my first multichapter Traught fic…I have a lot of young justice fics/drabbles on my tumblr account, but I figured I should use this one too! I hope you enjoy, please read and review!

All characters belong to Young Justice and DC, and "Her Morning Elegance" belongs to Oren Lavie and the producer(s).

_Soon she's down the stairs, _

_Her morning elegance she wears_

_The sound of water makes her dream_

-Oren Lavie

Artemis Crock is not a morning person. That would imply that she wakes up in the morning. She's properly known as a nocturnal animal, working from eight at night to varying times in the morning as a waitress-part-supervisor at an all night diner called Harry's Place; handily located by the airport so businessmen can stop for food after long flights over the pacific. Full of jet-lagged customers and locals who enjoy the comfort cuisine, Artemis Crock serves them with a smile on her face and a quiet, friendly demeanor. Standing at five foot seven, half Vietnamese with olive skin, grey almond shaped eyes, and long golden blonde hair, she was a stunning mix-and with a smile plastered on her face, she rarely had unhappy customers.

She sheds this mask as soon as she clocks out.

Throwing off her puke-worthy frilly apron, she grabs her gym bag and her car keys and starts her ancient Honda civic, watching her dash clock change from 4:03 to 4:04. She is tired but determined to surf this morning, mechanically moving the car from park to reverse, pulling out of her space and gunning it out of the parking lot, flipping on the headlights as the sun began to rise.

As she pushed her foot on the gas, whizzing down the winding road at far over 45 mph, she mentally calculated how many hours she would have on her next pay check, wincing at the pidly amount. _There goes any plans of eating anything but ramen and spam for the week,_ she sighs mentally, pulling into the beach parking lot and popping a few quarters in the crooked parking meter. In her cramped backseat, she manages to change into one piece with a peeling speedo logo, hopping out of the car as she shoves her laundry on top of her other dirty clothes that fill her back seat. "Laundry might be a good idea this week," Artemis muses aloud.

Grabbing her worn surfboard off of the top rack, she makes her way down the beach path, board tucked under one muscled arm. When her mom had sighed at her daughters muscled physique, and her friend's mom said boys didn't like girls who were more lean, sinewy, and hardened then soft, delicate, and curved, Artemis would shrug her muscled shoulders, saying nothing but thinking she could pummel them if they said anything.

Whistling a tuneless song, she paddles out into the water, the sun making its way above the horizon and dancing on the waves. Sitting up, she watches the waves build up and ebb back. When Artemis spots a good one, she paddles towards it, waits, and stands as the wave rears up. The water and blood pounding in her ear drums, she lets out a wild scream, feeling wild and free. She never felt like this at home, at work, or out with friends. "This is my home!" Artemis yells, whooping with joy and adrenaline.

Little did she know, Artemis wasn't alone on the waters that day.

Dick Grayson, the mer crown prince of the undersea, watches curiously from under the water as the human female mounted an oblong board of all things, balancing on it and riding it towards the shore.

"Fascinating," he says aloud to no one in particular, as she leans on the oblong shape, paddling back towards the heart of the ocean. "Doesn't her riding this board towards the sand defeat paddling back out here? She needs to get traught." He scoffs, trying to convince himself of this human stupidity Bruce talks about, yet he can't stop watching her paddling out and riding in.

Lacing his fingers behind his head, he leans back, tail flicking casually, the blue scales catching the light filtering through the water. As his gills flap to covert water to oxygen, his eyes curiously followed the tawny two-legged. Her (at least, he believed it to be female) legs were muscled and strong, and he observes her toes, with raggedy green paint coating the hard surface that protected each digit. _ Like fingernails, _ he observes, glancing at his own hands.

Dick propels himself closer, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that reminds him of Bruce. "Stay away," it warns cautiously, hostile towards all things new. "It's a threat."

He swims closer carefully, close enough to touch the smooth skin of the two leg, when it angles the oblong board towards the sand, paddling slowly towards land.

Mentally taking notes of the two-legged, the crown prince swims back towards the heart of the sea. "Tim will love this!" He grins, his much younger brother coming to mind.

With two flicks of his tail, he propels himself down towards his humble abode, the palace. With a nod towards the guardsmer, he makes his way through the pearly gates. Spotting a familiar dark head of hair and a muted green tail, he pounces on his adopted brother.

"Tim! I got so close to a two-legged today, I could have touched it!"

Tim's young face pinches into a frown, brows drawn. "You shouldn't get to close, Bruce wouldn't like that."

Dick brushes his brother's worried off easily. "You worry more than a daddy seahorse, you'll give yourself grey hair." He ruffles the younger teen's hair.

"Dick, you're already nineteen. Shouldn't you be more focused on ruling the undersea?" Tim asks, looking pointedly at the crown prince.

Dick sobers slightly. "I know I'm the crown prince, but I don't think I'm cut out to be Bruce. I'm not him, so I know I'll disappoint him when I take the throne. I can't help but feel I just don't fit in here. I'm heading to my room," he adds, cutting off whatever Tim was going to say. With a nod and a smile, he makes his escape.

...

Artemis jerks awake at the sound of a car horn. Blinking, she realizes that she nodded off at the red light by her loft. Waving apologetically in the rear view mirror, she hits the gas and turns into her apartment building's parking lot.

Slamming the car door shut, she hefts the pile of dirty laundry in one arm, manually locking the car and compiling a mental to do list: laundry, shower, sleep. Checking her waterproof watch, the numbers 7:37 blink lazily up at her, and she groans. She needs to go to bed. Tossing the load of wash in with some detergent, she sets it and heads in the shower of her apartment. It was one large room, with a couch, coffee table, open kitchen, bed, and a kitchen table. The only separate rooms were a laundry room and a bathroom.

Shampooing her hair thoroughly to wash any traces of salt or sand out, she focuses on her schedule for the following week instead of contemplating how quiet her life has been since she fled from her father in New York City. A crime lord in the organization the Shadows, he tried to influence her to follow in his footsteps, much like her older sister Jade, a hit man in the same organization.

"You can run from me, baby girl, you can run from the Shadows, but you can't run from genetics," he had hissed when she was packing to leave. Squaring her shoulders, she held her head high, praying he was wrong.

Artemis sighs as she towels her long blonde hair dry, thinking about how when she left the family behind, and the life behind, she also left the people she liked behind. Like Cameron. Criminals, but people that she liked, and liked her. New York had her dad, but also her friends and sister. Even though Artemis had lived in Hawaii for a year and six months, she hadn't really made any friends.

Sighing as she slipped on her boxer shorts and ratty tee shirt, Artemis put the matter to rest, mentally wrapping up her antisocial tendencies in favor of collapsing on her unmade double bed, curling up under the fluffy comforter, unaware of how much her small world would be flipped upside in the next 24 hours.

_And she fights for her life as she goes in a store_

_With a thought she has caught by a thread_

_She pays for bread and she goes…_

…_And nobody knows._


	2. Girls Like You

A/N: The only reason you're getting this chapter so fast is because I felt incredibly inspired to edit what I had written.

These characters belong to Young Justice and DC and "Girls Like You" belongs to the Naked and Famous and not me.

_Everyone will remember you when you're gone_

_And your heart, is a stone buried underneath your pretty clothes_

_Don't you know people write songs about girls like you?_

-The Naked and Famous

"I'll be right there with your pie, sir." Artemis says to the diner patron, her thousand-watt server smile glued to her face. The businessman nods back, sleepy and clutching his cup of joe in one hand, the other hand propping up his unshaven face.

Easing a piece of cherry pie onto one of the garish diner plates, she slides it down the counter to the customer, who digs into it and thanks her with the wave of a fork. Checking her watch, she internally groans at how much longer her shift is_. Oh god I think time is moving backwards._

"Cheer up, Artemis!" Her fellow waitress, an auburn beauty named M'gann (whose name tag spells out "MEGAN" in an attempt to normalize the name. Artemis's own name tag reads "ARTY", much to her eternal chagrin)

"It's easy for you to say, M'gann, you get off in less than an hour!" Artemis quips back, slapping her freckled arm lightly with her order pad. M'gann just laughs and bustles off with a pot of coffee to make rounds to fill up any patrons' emptying cups. Artemis tosses her blonde ponytail over her shoulder, grumbling under her breath about overly cheery waitresses, and M'gann shoots her a mock glare.

Rolling her eyes, Artemis unties her apron and adjusts her polyster fifties diner-waitress skirt and yells out to M'gann, "I'm taking my break now!" (It couldn't have come fast enough.)

Grabbing a slice of pie and sliding into a quiet corner booth, she takes a large bite of the pie. Artemis stares out of the window, one hand absently playing with the blonde ponytail. She wanted to go back to the water, and hit the waves until it was time for bed, her body ached for the familiar motions of archery.

As a young girl, Lawrence Crock insisted upon his daughters taking a variety of martial arts classes and weapons classes. Archery enamored young Artemis, and she excelled in it-even making it for Team USA Archery's youth team. Artemis's conscience guilted her for not practicing in almost a week, but the freedom and rush she got from surfing was almost worth neglecting her first love.

Almost.

Sighing as she savors her last bite of pie, she promises that she'll head to the range straight after work. Nodding to herself as the guilt lifts off her conscience, she puts her plate in the back sink, and ties her apron back on. Waving to M'gann, she walks down the length of the counter to a business man who just walked in and sat down. Taking a deep breath, she plasters on her best megawatt smile and asks, "What can I get for you today?"

...

Dick lays in his bed in his room in the palace, sleep clouding his mind.

"Master Dick, Master Bruce requests your presence in the drawing room." A familiar voice says, and Dick buries his face under the blankets.

"Alfred, did Bruce say it was important? Because if it's not important, I'm not really feeling it right now."

"I believe everything master Bruce asks you to do is important," the butler sighs.

Sitting up, Dick groans. "I'll be there in a minute. Or maybe thirty."

"If you wanted more sleep, you wouldn't be out at all hours during the day. It's eight o'clock at night, sir." The old butler says diplomatically, and Dick groans again.

He hated when Alfred was right. (Which he was, most of the time.)

He'd have to put his excursion to the surface off until later.

...

"Zatanna, I love seeing your beautiful face every morning." Artemis sighs in a sing-song, untying her apron as her replacement sashays through the diner doors.

The black-haired beauty ties on her own apron whose name tag declares "ZEE", and rolls her eyes.

"You only love me for my body, Artemis!" She proclaims dramatically. Zatanna had only started at the diner a month before, but Artemis had a feeling she would like the younger girl if only she wasn't always coming into work when Artemis was leaving.

"I love you for your mind too, Zatanna," Artemis assures her, hip-checking her as she passes by her.

After waving goodbye, Artemis practically runs out of the diner doors to her car. Massaging her cheeks, sore from maintaining a fake smile all night, she unlocks her car doors and sits in the drivers seat. Glancing into the back seat, her dark green one piece stars back morosely, and she sighs. "I'll practice archery tomorrow," Artemis promises herself, heading in the direction of the ocean calling to her.

...

"Finally!" Dick celebrates quietly, ducking around the palace guards and swimming upwards towards the shoreline where he had been yesterday. He was interested to see more two-leggeds trying to balance on that oblong thing. Especially that one he saw yesterday. It had more luck than he had expected, and he even got close enough to touch it!

Sometimes, he wished he was a two-legged. The freedom to explore the oceans and the lands, they didn't know how good they had it! He would give his tail to not be a prince and live up there. He loved Bruce, Tim, and the mers and animals that lived in undersea, he just didn't want to rule them. He just wasn't meant for all that.

"I want to be where the people are," The crown prince sighs, flicking his tail lazily as he swam farther and farther from his responsibilities. As he gets closer to the surface and the two-leggeds that he's studied in classrooms, his excitement grows.

Dick reaches the shore where he was yesterday and runs a hand through his dark hair, squinting up at the surface. He didn't see any two-leggeds, so he cautiously peeked his head above the surface, absorbing the sunrise, the fresh air, and the greenery waving in the ocean breeze. Scanning the shore, he ducked his head and cursed when he saw a two-legged with a long mane of blonde hair walking towards the water with one of those boards. (The one from yesterday, maybe?)

"Bruce is gonna kill me if she saw me," he groans about a foot under the surface, running his hands through his hair again.

...

Artemis makes her way to the ocean, the sun just breaking over the ocean horizon. Scanning the water for the best waves, she visibly jumps when she sees what appears to be a goddamn human head on the surface of the water.

Rubbing her eyes with one hand, she squints over to where she saw what she hoped was her imagination, to see the water blissfully clear.

Shaking her head for good measure (because Jesus Christ that was like something out of the movie Jaws or something) she makes her way towards the water, pushing all thoughts of dead bodies, decapitated heads, and man-eating sharks out of her mind.

Paddling out, she catches her first good wave of the day, crouched on her surfboard, arms out to carefully balance her as she rides parallel to the shore, gripping one side of the board as she tilts precariously near the end. Despite the danger, she has never felt more alive, never felt more like she's moved beyond from her past.

Straddling her board, she runs her fingers over her hair, grimacing because she forgot her hair tie in the car.

All thoughts of hair ties flee her mind as something gently brushes her left foot. Her body stiffens as she bites her lip to keep from screeching out, "Oh my fucking god, what just touched me."

Garnering the courage, (for god's sake, she used to belong to the Shadows, she's not a little girl, _she's not a little girl.)_ Artemis carefully rotates herself on the board until she's laying on it, legs dangling over one side and her face on the other, and ducks her head under the water, blonde hair fanning out in the water around her.

Four feet below her, a shirtless boy (more like a young teen/adult? With his sculpted abs it was hard to tell) waved at her, a smile on his face. With dark hair and bright blue eyes, he had stunning features, but Artemis was only staring at one thing. His fucking tail, like he was the goddamn little mermaid or something. (She was half waiting for a rousing rendition of "Under the Sea")

Sputtering in sea water, under her iron grip she hears something crack as she rears her head back, coughing up sea water as she struggles to get enough oxygen to her brain to process what she just saw.

The mermaid (merman? Mer freak?) follows her to the surface, concern marring his very human looking face.

"Are you okay?" He asks hesitantly, head bobbing along the waves.

Artemis shakes her head vehemently, still coughing up seawater.

As soon as she catches her breath, she glares at him. "What are you, the little mermaid? I mean, are you even real?"

He looks affronted, and puffs up his chest when he answers, "Of course I'm real. I'm mer!"

"You're _what?"_

"_Mer._ M-E-R. Half fish, half person?" He offers, swimming closer. "By the way, the thing your floating on is broken."

"Shit," Artemis mutters as she glances down at her broken surfboard, which she had been holding together by sheet force of will. As it floats apart, she slips off, dipping under water. She feels someone grab her arm, forcefully hauling her back to the surface. The mer looks completely panicked.

"I'm fine," Artemis says, coughing slightly. He raises one eyebrow. "Last time you put your head underwater you coughed up the ocean for five minutes." He says doubtfully. "That's because I saw you under there! I can swim perfectly well." Artemis protests, pushing her hair out of her face with her free forearm, and wiggling her captured one. "Now let me go."

Shaking his head, he hauls her towards the shore, powerful tail moving them faster than she could swim herself, until the were in shallower water. She stood, water up to her collar bone, and shook him off her arm.

"I'm a big girl and can handle myself." Artemis snaps, glaring at him. He looks back unapologetically. "Whatever you say, two-legged."

"_What's that supposed to mean_?"

_How would you cope if the world decided to make you suffer for all that you were?_

_What would you do if you couldn't even feel, not even pitiful pain?_

_How would you deal with the empty decisions, eating away at the days?_


	3. Desperate Measures

A/N: I just got back from college orientation, and 17 credit hours later, my first semester is going to be I-N-S-A-N-E. And thank you so much for the kind reviews; they really help inspire me to write :)

Young Justice belongs to the creators and DC, and "Desperate Measures" belong to Marianas Trench and their recording company

_I'll give you something to cry about_

_Show some skin, and would be, cash out_

_How could you let this get to desperate measures now?_

-Marianas Trench

Dick rolls his eyes at the angry female in front of him, trying not to openly gawk at her body. The girls at home wear loose-fitted tunics made from pressed seaweed, nothing like this glistening second skin that fits her sinewy but curvy figure like a second skin. (He tries to not blush.)

"What the hell are you?" She finally bursts out, interrupting his silent contemplation on her feminine physique.

"I already told you. I'm a mer. I live under the water." He sighs. At her glare, he holds out a hand. "Hi. My name is Richard Grayson. I go by Dick. I'm from the undersea. I'm a mer. But I said that already."

She looks at his hand like it should be a lobster claw, one eyebrow raised, and gingerly clasps it. "I'm, uh, Artemis Crock. I go by Artemis. I'm from New York City, and I'm a human?" She says. Artemis, her name was (curious she didn't shorten it. Longer names were used for formal occasions, but in mer society there was always a one or two syllable nickname used by close friends and family.) Her voice was raspy, unlike the mer girls Dick knew, whose high pitched voices could grate on anyone's nerves.

Glancing at her face, he noticed the bags under her eyes at how she was swaying with tiredness, and he swims closer to the shore, until his tail was dragging on the sand, and he flips himself over, propped on his elbows. She follows him without comment (that was a first, she liked to fight everything that he said or did) and sits down by him, hugging her knees (so that's what they looked like. Knees looked funny) and glancing at him.

"What's it like?" She asks out of the blue. "Living under the water, I mean," she clarifies, her grey eyes alight with curiosity, but she tries to hide it.

Dick is taken aback. He has spent so long wondering about life above the water that he can't imagine that life below the water could be foreign.

"Well. It's beautiful." He hesitates, unsure of how to describe it. "And it's darker, because the sun doesn't reach that far down. And it's not as noisy." He continues to describe it, watching the pure wonder on her face shine. A warmth spreads to his chest at the look on her face.

"What's it like on land?" He asks quietly, and Artemis shifts, leaning back on her elbows and stretching her long, lean legs out. "Well, it's...loud. And the sky is always different colors, and it's crowded, and there are people everywhere. And you can travel anywhere to see anything. And it's easy to lose yourself in everything, because it's overwhelming." Artemis pauses, watching the sun creep higher in the sky. She seemed lost in her thoughts until he pokes her, and her eyes wake up again.

"Do you like it up here?" He asks casually. He's an intuitive mer, and he can sense that she's holding herself back, guarding herself. Though her stance is casual, and open, he can see her muscles are tense, ready to bolt at any moment. Dick wonders why, but doesn't ask.

"I like it as much as you can like the place you've known all your life." Artemis finally answers.

Dick contemplates that, opening his mouth to ask another deep-probing-question-disguised-as-not-one, when Artemis stands up, water dripping down her body, and Dick averts his eyes. (What had happened to him? Normally he was clever, mouthy, but she's currently reverted him to a five year old with a crush)

"I don't know about you, fish-boy, but I sleep during the day and work at night so you're keeping me up past my bedtime," Artemis says, moving out of the water, picking up her towel from the sand where she left it earlier, and wrapping it around herself.

"Will I see you again?" Dick asks before he can stop himself. (Great, now he really sounds like a lovesick flounder).

Artemis merely raises her eyebrows, her mouth twitching into something that might be considered a smile, if he scrunched up his eyes and turned his head to the right.

"Tomorrow, if I'm not at the archery range," she calls out, turning around and trekking up the sand towards a metal and glass box. He watches her get in it, and it roars to life, rolling away and fading into the distance. Dick pushes himself out of the shallows, propelling himself down into the depths. Artemis Crock, with her dark skin and raspy voice and her suit that fit her like a second skin, is the only thing on his mind.

...

Artemis keeps pinching herself on the way home, trying to make sure she didn't dream up the encounter with the half fish, half boy (if she thinks of him as a boy, maybe she won't find him as attractive).

After throwing some more laundry in and showering, she stops to realize she doesn't have a surfboard anymore, her last one broken thanks to fish-face.

"Mother fu-"

...

The next night passed by in a blur, and it wasn't only her next visit with her local little mermaid Artemis was looking forward to (at least, that's what she told herself). She had the next night off, so she could hit the archery range and pay for a new surfboard. (If only she could make him pay for it, but they probably use shells or something equally ridiculous as currency.)

As she waved good night to Zatanna, she drove off to her surf spot, and clambered into her back seat, unbuttoning her work shirt and shimmying off her skirt, grabbing a faded grey and black marbled swimsuit, wiggling herself into it. Hopping out of her car, towel and keys in hand, she pads barefoot down the path to the water, whistling. As she drops her stuff by the dunes, she wades into the water, suddenly overcome with the fear that maybe she was dreaming last night. She rubs her temples, suddenly embarrassed and glad no one is here to see her _looking for a mermaid. _The blonde keeps walking on, determined to at least enjoy her swim because _there are no such thing as mermaids but delusions are a very real problem._

When she is waist deep in the water, any uncertainty disappears as a hand wraps around her ankle and yanks her under the water. Artemis resurfaces, sputtering and wiping her hair out of her face.

"You're late." A grumpy voice says, and she turns her ire towards the boy.

"What the hell?" Artemis sputters, and looks at her watch. It gently glows the time, 5:27.

"What do you mean? We didn't even set up a time! You just like being an obnoxious little twat." She protests, and he crosses his arms.

"You were here earlier yesterday, and I'm going to ignore that twat comment because I'm the bigger person here."

"Because I got off of work at four instead of five."

He raises one eyebrow, and she leans forward to flick a dark lock of hair off his forehead. "Admit it, you were just worried I was going to ditch you, fish-boy," she says, a wicked grin on her face.

He sputters now, blushing slightly. "My name isn't fish-boy!" Dick protests.

Artemis smirks, and in a flash she finds herself being tackled underwater. She lashes out with one foot, but he's already moved away, gently pulling her back up to the surface by her upper arm.

"I won't get lost on my way back to the surface," Artemis says dryly.

"You're a two-legged, anything can happen." Dick cackles.

"Watch it punk, I have a mean right hook."

"...A mean right fishing hook? I don't get it."

She sighs. "Never mind."

After watching the sunrise, laughing breathlessly, and telling stories of different worlds, Dick lifts one hand to the side of her face. "This shiny thing, in your ear," he begins, oblivious of how Artemis stiffens at his touch at the top of her jaw, where it meets her ear.

He doesn't see her punch coming, and he rubs his jaw ruefully as Artemis apologizes. "It was a knee-jerk reaction, I'm so sorry."

He laughs slightly. "It's okay, but why? My people don't have an issue with it. Unless its a human reaction?" Dick cocks his head slightly.

Artemis doesn't respond right away.

"Yeah, must be a human thing."

_For a first effort this feels kinda last ditch_

_I guess this just got kinda drastic_

_Trust us, you just fell off the bus, baby._


	4. Gunpowder & Lead

_I'm going to show what little girls are made of_

_Gunpowder and lead._

-Miranda Lambert

~flashback~  
-Nine Years Ago, Mountain Cabin, Upstate New York-  
"Not good enough, little girl." Lawrence Crock growled. Eleven year old Artemis glared at her father, a weighted throwing knife clenched in her small hand.

"I'm already good at martial arts and archery, dad, why do I have to practice with these dumb knives?"

"Because you have to know how to fight or I won't be proud of you."

Rolling her eyes, the little girl draws her arm back, aims, and lets the knife fly, hitting a dummy less than an inch below a bullseye region over the heart.

"Better." He grunts, reaching over and tossing her ear protectors and glasses, and handing her a box.

"Now, put together this rifle in less than three minutes and make three bulls-eyes from 50 yards away in the back yard by the time I come back from making this call," Lawrence told her, pulling out his flip phone and dialing in a number.

Biting back a snarky response, she dumped the box on the nearest table and began the familiar routine of putting together her sniper rifle.

-Six years ago, Family Apartment, New York City-

"Little girl, you're starting officially in the Shadows on Tuesday. Don't disappoint me."

Fourteen year old Artemis Crock glances up from her chemistry homework, raising an eyebrow at her father. "I've been working for the Shadows since I was eleven, what do you mean I'm 'officially' starting on Tuesday?"

Lawrence drops his briefcase (filled with papers, a laptop, three guns, two smoke grenades, and a half dozen knifes) on the table.

"You're playing watch guard when we infiltrate the pentagon. The ambassador has justice league guards, but they'll be more lax when they think they're safe in there. Your job is to provide support to the main team, and tranquilize a few guards, and kill anyone that gets in the way. You'll bring your bow and a quiver full of the necessary trick arrows, your compact bow, your beretta nine millimeter and a tranquilizer gun. And of course, the usual back up knives."

Artemis Crock was sitting ramrod straight in her chair, eyes getting wider as her father spoke.

"But I thought you had to be at least sixteen to join the shadows as more than a grunt?" She reclaims.

Lawrence puts a hand on her shoulder. "I know. Welcome to the Shadows, Operative Tigress. I'm proud of you, little girl." He growls, moving down the hallway and slamming the study door closed.

Her father's approval fills her with nervous excitement and fear.

-Five years ago, Family Apartment, New York City-

"I told you to kill all witnesses, Artemis. You directly disobeyed my orders."

Standing straight and staring at the wall ahead of her, fifteen year old Artemis is dressed in all black, covered in blood and dirt and sweat, and wants nothing more to shower.

"It was a little girl, only three years old. She's not a reliable witness and I saw no need to do anything other than tranquilize her." Artemis answers, fear stirring low in her gut, but her dislike of killing innocents keeping her back ramrod straight.

"The Justice League gained a new member last month. Martian Manhunter," Her squad leader snarls at her, spitting in her face. "Do you know what he can do? He can reach into your mind and pick out thoughts and memories. Can you tell me what the Embassy will do when the find this innocent little girl?"

Artemis swallows, and the fear in her gut spirals out to encompass her arms and legs, her body minutely trembling.

"If you don't want to end up like most of your victims, you will go rectify this situation or die trying. And by that, you have an hour to deal with this problem or the Shadows will blow that building and everyone in it to kingdom come."

Artemis's fingers tremble as she grips the fabric of her sturdy catsuit, trying to keep herself from betraying her fear.

"I'm very disappointed in you, little girl, her squad leader, Lawrence Crock says, slamming the door shut behind her.

Artemis deals with the situation and is left with 24 minutes to spare, and later that night she vomits in her sink at home and tries to scrub the little girl's blood off her hands.

-Four years ago, Mountain Cabin, Upstate New York-

"Do you know why I brought you out here?"

Glancing up at her father, she tightens her grip on her backpack. Lawrence Crock barged into sixteen year old Artemis's room the night before, yelled at her to pack a bag, and drove all night to arrive at their mountain cabin, miles away from any civilization.

"It's because we needed to have a very important talk, Artemis."

He never called her by her name before.

"About your behavior at work."

This can't be good.

He stands in front of her, putting both of his hands on her shoulder. She tries not to recoil.

"You keep acting as though you have free will as an Operative. You make these decisions, to spare a life, warn an innocent, to make a painful death easy. Leaving us with your messes to clean up." Lawrence's hand moves up to Artemis's jaw, making her meet his eyes, grey meeting blue.

His thumb hits the spot below her ear where it meets her jaw, and presses into the indent.

"If you do it again, I'll put a bullet right there. You are human. Do not forget."

-Present Day-

Artemis rubs her neck, avoiding Dick's curious glance. "Yeah, it must be a human thing. Sorry."

_Nothin' on this white rock but little ole me_

_I've got two miles 'til, he makes bail_

_And if I'm right we're headed straight for hell._


	5. Guns for Hands

A/n: I'm running out of prewritten chapters, I've just been so busy getting ready for college and working all the time…I'm so sorry guys! Also, this hasn't been proofread very thoroughly, I just wanted to get you guys an update. Thanks for all the kind reviews, it really helps me to update! (I forget most of the time, haha.)

_I know, I know what that means, I know._

_That you all have guns,_

_And you never put the safety on._

-Twenty One Pilots

Artemis stayed up until eleven a.m today, talking and laughing (and rough housing) with Dick, when eventually she started nodding off in the water.

"Watch it, two-legged! You'll fall asleep in the water and drown!" He teases, poking her side when she stated nodding off.

"Sorry," Artemis yawns, checking her watch. "I've been up since six last night. Or maybe because your stories about you pranking Tim are boring." Dick frowns at her.

"I'll have you know I'm considered hilarious back home. (Artemis snorts at this and he glares at her.) Your backwards days confuse me. Do all humans do that? Or only the crazy ones, like you?" Dick says with a straight face.

Artemis punches his side.

"You wound me, twice! Do you have a death wish? I'm one if the best warriors in my country!" He says, chest puffed up.

She raises one eyebrow. "I'm not so bad myself." She adds casually.

"I know 'Mis, I'll be sporting a nice bruise on my jaw!" Dick winces, rubbing his jaw.

"Is that another mer insult?" She asks suspiciously.

Dick smooths out his scales, avoiding her gaze. "In my culture, your first name has many syllable, and that's the formal version of your name. People you don't know or are younger or are lower class than you call you it. But friends and family are called by a one or two syllable nickname. Like I'm called 'Dick' instead of 'Richard'. I shortened your name from 'Artemis' to " 'Mis". Because, I feel like, we're, uh, friends now." Dick, who was usually so suave with his words, was stumbling and blushing.

Artemis gives him a smile, one that was real and wasn't forced. It felt foreign on her face.

Dick looks at her and smiles too. "I've finally got you to really smile." He says softly, and his face just looked so radiant she has to look away.

She almost wants to make a joke, laugh this off, but typical behavior (how can it be typical? She met this fish-boy yesterday and it feels like they've been friends for ever, maybe they were best friends in a past life) is suspended right now. So she leans back in the water, the sun tanning her skin and drying her long blonde hair.

His dark hair is tousled, and his blue eyes match the sky.

"Thanks," she says unexpectedly.

"Why?"

"Because I don't have many friends. It's nice to have someone here that thinks of me like this."

He hesitates, but speaks, because if not now, never. "My parents said I was good at bringing out the best in people. They're dead now, my parents. They were in the circus. Someone wanted them dead. Which is unusual in mer society, we're very peaceful creatures. But, I guess...I don't remember them super well, but it's kinda like bits and pieces. But I miss them. And you kinda remind me of my mom. You guys smile and laugh the same way." He looks away from her, unable to handle the look in her eyes that he couldn't put a name to. "We don't really kill other mers. War in between us almost never happens, which is why it was so...unexpected. Violence is so unnecessary. I mean, we're all the same species, what could warrant killing another one of us?"

"I've never thought about it that way. Violence being unnecessary," she says, and he looks back, and her face was closed and guarded again.

She stands up. "I've gotta go to bed, I'm exhausted." Artemis yawns.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Dick asks, afraid he scared her off with his sudden outpouring of secrets. Now that the spell was broken, he felt naked and ashamed, regretting every word. He turned to swim away, and stopped at the sound of her voice.

"I'm sorry...about your parents. I would've liked to meet them, if they were anything like you." She offers, her voice soft over the lapping of the waves. But it eases the weight of his stomach, and with a flip of his tail he's off towards the heart of the undersea, his parents and Artemis on his mind.

~Flashback~

-Eleven years ago, Undersea-

Eight year old Dick Grayson swims in lazy loop-de-loops in the big tent, a goofy grin on his adolescent face.

"You'll get dizzy," his mother chides, but she smiles, her dark hair wavy out behind her in the calm currents.

"But Zikita likes it," he protests, gesturing to the tiny seahorse cradled in his palms.

"Don't get her too used to you, she has to perform later!" His father says, ruffling his hair.

"Can I perform with you tonight, please?"

"No my little Robin, it's too dangerous." His mother says, hugging her young mer son.

"Mommy, what's a Robin?"

"It's a flying animal on land, with a bright red breast, like you in our costume."

"That's such an embarrassing nickname, mom."

Mary Grayson kisses her son on both cheeks. "I live to embarrass my son."

His parents go to get changed, to prepare for their act, and he talks with the other performers, with his mismatched family.

He only sees a passing glance at his parents, the most famous act in the Undersea. Their costume is red, like the robin his mom talks about.

The blood flooding the water around their limp bodies after their gruesome public deaths is also read, and cloudy, and he wonders if it also looks like the red robin's breast.

~Flashback ended~

Artemis forewent going to bed, and instead went to the shooting range. She needed to let out some anger (at herself, at violence, at everyone). She grabs her case from the trunk, and her forged gun license.

She'll start with her beretta and then go to her rifle.

Twenty rounds and fifteen minutes later, she's breathing hard and reloading her gun. (Why is the person she makes friends with in a year completely against violence oh god he'll hate her if he ever finds out that she's a murderer.)

She unloads another round and vows to order more on her dad's credit card. He'll be happy to know she's using her beretta.

Lowering her gun and flicking on the safety, she packs it up and pulls out her rifle, loading more shots and and snapping it in place. Laying on the ground, raising the scope to her eye, she watches the target steadily, calming her breathes and focusing only on the cool trigger beneath her finger, and the target she sees in her scope.

She pulls.

A bullseye.

Her father would be proud.

Packing up her guns, she checks her watch. She should have about an hour at the archery range before she should go to sleep.

Dropping her case in her trunk (thank god a cop has never looked in it, it's practically an armory in there) she hops in her front seat, cranks up her radio, and guns it for the archery range. She has some pent-up aggression that she needs to let out.

_We've turned our hands to guns, trade in our thumbs for ammunition,_

'_Cause when the sun sets, it upsets what's left of my invested interest,_

_Interested in putting my fingers to my head._


	6. Visitation of the Ghost

_To create the circumstances that the evidence will show._

_And who will be a witness for the solitary host?_

_If you sleep tonight, the visitation of the ghost._

-The Brobecks

It was subtle things at first, that were noticed.  
The mess in her car shifted slightly.  
Her bed covers pulled up higher than she left them.  
The milk in her fridge was on a lower shelf.  
She may not be an operative of the shadows any more, but the skills were still there.  
The Shadows knew where she was. (Of course they did, she just hoped they wouldn't mess with a low-talent agent who had a problem with obeying orders.) Artemis only had expected low surveillance, not someone rifling through her apartment.

The feeling in her gut told her this was only going to get worse.

...

Rolling out of bed, Dick glares at Alfred.

"Why does he need to see me in the middle of the night?" He groans, trying to comb down his hair into a semblance of neat.

Grabbing a brush, Alfred sits the boy on the end of the bend and brushes his locks.

"I don't presume to know master Bruce's mind."

"You don't even have a guess?"

"...he seems to be worried about something."

Making his way down to his adopted father's private study, he raps on the ornate door.

"Enter."

Bowing his head slightly, he enters the study, glancing around at the familiar books and scrolls he had been forced to study as the crown prince.

"Sit down," Bruce gestures to the chair in front of his desk.

"Do you know why I've called you in here?"

Dick glances up, studying Bruce's face. Serious, impassive, dark hair combed down, unlike his own. His eyes were a darker shade of blue than Dick's.

"Not really."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "Typically, your schedule includes physical training, global studies, and you sit in my meetings to rule the kingdom. It isn't easy. And you haven't questioned why I've let you have three days where you haven't been required to do anything at all?"

Dick blinks, internally panicking. (Had this been some sort of weird test?)

"You've let me have time off because I needed it?"

"I wanted to see what you'd do with it."

"Don't look so panicked, you didn't do anything wrong. I've just been curious of your choices. You've swim out of undersea every day. You've been visiting the surface," at this point, Bruce's eyes stare intently at Dick's, and the younger one tries not to blink. (He fails.)

"You know that you have responsibilities here. And you know that two-leggeds can't know about us. This is my final warning. You'll have one more day to relax, but I expect you to report to training at six a.m sharp." Bruce gets up, facing the window behind his desk, his back towards Dick.

"Bruce, I...just don't think I'm cut out to rule this kingdom. Tim is a much better fit for this job. I just don't think I fit in here." He says lamely. Bruce still hasn't turned around, so Dick continues. "I just think something's missing. I train, I learn, but I don't wanna be stuck here trying to fix all the problems, I want to be...hands on, I guess."

At this, Bruce turns around, a strange look passing over his face. But it was fleeting, and he swims around the desk to put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you're the right one to lead the kingdom."

Dick stares straight ahead, and Bruce quietly leaves the study. When the door is shut, his shoulders slump and he hangs his head. He knew this time of hanging around couldn't last forever, but why does he feel so trapped?

...

Artemis crumples up the note as soon as she finds it. Dressed in her work uniform, she finds it under her windshield wiper. Momentarily panicked it was a ticket (Hawaii was awesome, but they are such a bitch about creative parking.)

_We've been keeping tabs on you. Not that you should be surprised. We are quite impressed by your ability to make friends from the strangest places. We suggest you come back to New York or your little friend might find himself in some trouble. Someone needs your special talents.__  
__-Operative Cheshire_

Shoving the note in her cup holder of her car, she tries not to think about the garish paper Cheshire wrote the note on: pink with little kittens on it. Cheshire liked to think she was funny.

She tries not to think about Cheshire, or the Shadows, or her past life.

Unfortunately, the past has a funny way of sneaking up on you.

_You think, you think you're pretty smart._

_But I can cause a little pain._

A/n: sorry for the long wait! I've had some chapters just kinda waiting for me to upload, and this was the last of them. I've started college (pretty scary!) so I don't know how often I'll be able to get to this story. I feel bad for not updating, and I wish I could pause time and finish it all in one go! I may update sporadically. I apologize to all of my followers, but writing occupies a lot of time that I don't currently have! (18 credit hours, yuck)


	7. Kill All Your Friends

A/n: Wow, I'm alive and I finished this chapter! After listening to _Desperate Measures _on repeat I felt the need to finish this chapter. Inspiration comes from everywhere! And I may even start on chapter 8 because I have fall break (even though it's so busy with studying and other things)

_Well you can hide a lot about yourself, but honey, what are you gonna do?_

_And you can sleep in a coffin, but the past ain't through with you._

-My Chemical Romance

~Flashback~

-One and a half years ago, Family Apartment, New York City-

She doesn't remember how she manages to drag herself up into her room up the fire escape, but she awakens on her bed, the poison burned out of her system and a wicked hangover as a parting present. Artemis blinks blearily at the figure at the end of her bed, groaning when she makes out short blonde hair.

"Little girl, the Shadows are fed up with your disobedience. We tried to turn a blind eye, because of your skill, your potential. But this time you went to far. You had two people to kill. You can't even do that right. In your attempt to induce what I assume is brain damage so they couldn't remember they saw us assassinate someone, you put someone in a coma forever and killed the other, painfully. And then a guard managed to get you with a bullet laced with poison. You think you are trying to be better then us," he growls, stepping closer, "By 'sparing' those you deem worthy, like an angel of judgment. But you are an assassin, a hit man, and what you did is screw up two lives and scar a little girl for life when it could've been quick and clean."

Artemis resists the urge to puke, the synaptic nerves firing, bringing the unbidden images of a couple, their heads bleeding heavily, a small child screaming by their bodies.

She pushes herself up to her elbows, fighting a grimace at the pain in her leg.

"So, to recap. Operative doesn't do things cleanly. One adult in coma. One dead. One little girl saw her parents' heads bleed over the beige carpet. One Operative hit by bullet, poisoned. Don't disappoint me again." Lawrence says shortly, slamming the door as he stalks out of the room.

She rolls over to her side, half dry-heaving half coughing. She fights the urge to scream in rage in pain as her leg, untreated, throbs painfully. The blonde pulls herself up, peeling the layers back to observe the wound. The bullet was still in there, and the way her father spoke let her know that she was on her own with this one.

Grabbing a pair of socks, she takes one and hobbles to the bathroom, soaking it in hot water, and grabs a pair of thick tweezers. Twisting the other sock into a rope, the bites it in between her teeth and dabs the wound with the makeshift hot rag, and screams into the cotton as she digs out the pellet-sized bullet from her muscle.

Spitting out the sock, she presses her thumbs on the wound, stemming the fresh blood flow.

Artemis Crock hated her job.

~Flashback over~

Rolling over in the water, she wiggles her toes and closes her eyes, listening to Dick chatter away about life under the sea. She relaxes until she feels a hand close around her calf, jerking her into the deep water.

Coming up coughing, she splashes the offending fish-boy. "What the hell was that for?"

"You were falling asleep during my story, Arty-party," Dick pouts, dodging her punch with ease.

"_Arty-party is not an adequate nickname."_

"Artemis!" He gasps. "I cannot believe you would make fun of my culture! Just yesterday I told you how important it was to my people!" His blue eyes are agonizingly wide and his hair is messy and Artemis groans.

"You're abusing this whole 'my culture' stuff, fish-boy."

Compared to the serious talk they had the last time they were together, Dick seemed to have exploded into a hyperactive ten-year-old, though he had to be only a few years younger than her twenty years.

Checking her watch, she stands up, the note from Cheshire on the front of her mind. _Your little friend might find himself in some trouble._

"Hey, 'Mis?" Dick asks, breaking her reverie, and she snaps to attention.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think…I'll be able to see you for a while."

Her chest constricts (she's only known him for a few days) and she closes off her face, slipping into her mask as easily as a snake into water (she's losing her first friend in a year).

Artemis swallows, and she watches Dick focus on the movement of her throat. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She turns around, making her way back to the shore, the ocean lapping at her eyes.

"Artemis!" He calls out, and she turns around, face impassive.

His eyes are full of hidden pain, and her face softens marginally. "I'm sorry."

When she opens her mouth to speak, she recognizes a look of panic in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak again, it's the only warning she has. Twisting, she catches the arm of the Shadows Operative who had snuck up behind her (Had the sound of the ocean hid his steps, or was she rusty?) and she twists it to his back, the sharp crack of a shoulder dislocating telling her she's not as rusty as she thought.

"_Artemis!" _Dick yells, panic laced through his voice.

_He's got to get out of here,_ Artemis thinks, the note fresh in her mind as she brutally brings her knee up in one attackers stomach, and grabs the wrist of another and twists it upward, breaking it.

…..

He'd never felt so powerless, watching her twist and pummel attackers. Like some kind of killer ballerina, she slammed and abused the men coming after her.

And here he was, stuck in the goddamn water. He pulls at the sand vainly, the shallow water washing around his tail, and he struggles until he thinks his muscles will give up, hoarsely echoing the name of the golden-haired girl who's fighting for her life. And suddenly, he's running. Running, towards the shore, on _two legs._

As Artemis delivers a swift uppercut to her last attacker, she wipes the blood from her eye. She has a cut on her eyebrow, the blood flowing freely down her face, and she turns, panting, to Dick.

He stands in front of her, the muscles in his legs screaming at him for this abuse.

Artemis flinches back, her gaze flickering from his legs to his face. Taking a deep breath, she calms herself, and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Is there something you may have forgotten to mention? Like the fact that you do, indeed, have _legs?_"

He looks down at them, and back at her, and for once in his life, he's speechless. "I…I'm not really sure where they came from." Dick sputters, and Artemis closes her eyes, eyebrow twitching.

"You're not sure where they came from? You have goddamn legs!" She says, borderline hysterical. Artemis peeks at him, and then shuts her eyes again, cheeks beginning to redden. "And you're _naked!"_ Artemis turns around now, scanning for her towel, and chucks it at him. "Wrap that around your waist. We've got to get you out of here." Artemis instructs, eyes still closed.

"Are you decent?" She asks, and Dick doesn't answer, still trying to tuck the end of the towel in order to keep it up. Artemis takes that as a yes, and opens her eyes. She takes the end of the towel and tucks it in herself, and now he's the one blushing, her fingers warm against his waist as they tuck the towel in.

Grabbing his arm, she starts pulling him away from the water, stopping in front of her glass and metal box and pulling out a pair of keys.

"What's that?"

"A car."

"What does it do?"

"It's transportation. Now get inside."

"I think I'd rather walk," he says nervously, and Artemis looks at his legs.

"On your brand new legs? I don't think so." She steers him by his shoulders to the other side, opens the strangely shaped door, and shoves him inside. Leaning over him, so her curtain of golden hair tickles his chest, she grabs a flattened rope and brings it diagonally across his chest, buckling it by his waist. He breathes out, her hair fluttering against his lips.

Standing back up, she carefully closes the door, and gets in on her side. The car roars to life, and Dick jumps.

"Sorry, she's a little noisy."

"_She? _It's alive?"

"No. It's just a girl." Artemis says, turning around, and the car rolls backwards. Dick fists his hands in the towel around his waist and closes his eyes. _Maybe if he closes his eyes he'll be out of this damned beast._

….

Getting out of her car, she makes her way to the other side, opening the door and surveying her sleeping passenger. He had passed out within minutes of her starting the engine. _He looks pretty cute asleep, _she mentally notes. Leaning forward, she shakes his shoulder gently, and his eyes flicker open. He glances down, and groans. "I was hoping I merely had a terrible, terrible dream. No such luck there."

Rolling her eyes, she unbuckles his seat belt and gestures for him to get out of the car. Glancing around, his eyes squinting in the sunlight, he observes the surroundings. "Where are we?"

"My apartment." She says shortly, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him towards the dank stairwell. Artemis scans her surroundings, knowing that the Shadows Operatives that she beat won't be the only ones they sent. Unlocking her door and shoving him inside, she sits him down on the couch and kneels down by him, sliding a box out from underneath the couch. Unlocking it, she pulls out her emergency compact crossbow (ignoring the gun, if she catches anyone in her apartment she wants them to be alive) and turns to the former mer, and signals him to be silent with a finger to her lips. She inches towards the bathroom first, opening the door and peeking around, finger wrapped around the trigger. Artemis follows the same procedure for the laundry room and the closet, and doesn't release a sigh until she's sure they're safe.

"Who were those people?" Dick asks quietly, and Artemis glances at him, silently weighing her options.

Turning away and rummaging in her dresser, she answers him. "Old acquaintances of mine."

"What, did you piss them off or something?"

"You could say that."

"What did you do? Steal their candy?"

Instead of answering, Artemis chucked a pair of shorts and a tee shirt at him. She had some of Cameron's old clothes that she wore to bed, and she thought they should fit him.

Five minutes later, Dick Grayson walks out of the bathroom. The tee shirt stretches over his shoulders (Cam was always lean) and Artemis swallows, mouth dry.

Shuffling his feet, Dick looks up at her. "I'm not sure how I feel about these clothes. Are you sure I have to wear them?"

"Yes," Artemis says, coughing loudly and looking down to cover her blush. "I'm very sure."

Turning a critical eye towards her rapidly flushing face, he smirks briefly. "See anything you like?" He mocks, spinning slowly to give her the full 360. She swallows as the tee shirt, old and soft, stretches across his surprisingly broad shoulders.

"Not really." She remarks casually, turning around and padding towards her own bedroom. "I'll be out in a moment."

Rustling through her clothes pile for something relatively clean, she shimmies out of her one piece and into some underwear. Grabbing a bra hanging on one bedpost, she clasps it and wiggles her arms through the straps. Glancing down at her torso, she fingers an old and stretched scar under her belly button.

Sighing, she grabs an old tee shirt of Cameron's. The door bursts open, revealing an alarmed Dick Grayson. "There's something making a very loud noise!" He yells over the sound of her cell phone ringing in the living room, and then pauses, taking in her apparel. Scowling, she tosses the balled up shirt at him. "Turn around, you perv." He obliges, and Artemis darts towards him, grabbing the tee shirt she had just thrown at him, and pulls it over her head. It's long enough to cover the important parts, so she winds around him to reach the phone before it rings to voicemail. The caller ID declares it's a PRIVATE caller, and Artemis frowns briefly before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Tigress dear. I take it you saw some old friends, if that cut on your face is any indication." Cheshire crackles over the phone, and Artemis spins around, looking through the windows in the living room to see where the Operative could be hiding.

"Tch, no peeking," Cheshire drawls over the phone.

Hanging up, Artemis turns to the former mer.

"We need to get somewhere safe."

"Where did all those scars come from?" He interrupts, and she squints at him. Dick gestures to her figure. "You have them all over your stomach. And your arms and legs. I didn't notice them in the water, I guess."

She shrugs listlessly, face stony, and brushes by him. He catches her shoulder. "What's happening?" He whispers, fear breaking over his face. Her stony countenance crumbles, and she places what she hopes is a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'll keep you safe."

'_Cause we're all a bunch of liars, tell me, baby, who do you wanna be?_

_And we are all about to sell it, 'cause it's tragic with a capital T._


End file.
